Red Hood and the Titans - Prologue
by RHODESKurosaki
Summary: It begins with a broken man...
1. Chapter 1

…

…

…

 _It began where it ended_.

"…how he survived…"

 _With pain._

"…dead beyond a reasonable…"

 _Dealt from a familiar face._

"We gather here today to honor the memory of…"

 _With a ticking clock._

"Ready? Begin."

 _With a hero coming to the rescue_.

"50 meters…40 meters…"

…

 _But this time…Unlike many times before…_

"…No…"

 _He would_ _ **fail**_ _._

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY, NJ March 19, 2011 7:32 AM**

Blinking, the young man rose from his slumber, greeted by the blare of a police siren hurtling down Martin Avenue. He closed the window and moved back towards the bed, lying next to the ginger haired woman, her chest rising slowly with each breath. He kissed her forehead and shut his eyes, wishing that morning wasn't here.

"Mmm…hey. S'seven thir'y," the red head mumbled drowsily.

"So?" the man replied drily. "No one gets up before 10 on a Saturday."

"Yeah, but I'm hungry," the red head whined playfully. "And you promised."

"5 more minutes," said the man, rolling over and facing the loud window.

The woman propped herself up on the man's back, her bare chest pressing against his shoulder blade and arm. She nuzzled his head, tracing the man's toned bicep all the way to his pectoral. "You promised me. If you don't make me breakfast, I'll kick you out."

The man chuckled. _She'd kick me out if I forgot to put the seat down, let alone cook breakfast._ He rolled around and pulled her atop him.

"Easy, tiger," she smiled that pearly-white smile, the kind that dove right into your soul and made you realize that this was how true beauty manifested itself. Her deep azure eyes sparkling pools of both the mischievous and ferocious kind drew the man in like a moth to a brilliant flame. How glad he would be to feel her heat consume everything he was. She pecked from his cheek to his mouth in a slow line, each kiss intensifying until their lips melded together.

The kiss went on for what seemed like hours until the red head finally broke the lip lock. Her narrowed eyes, arched eyebrow, and seductive smile told the man that now was the time to get up. He laughed softly, sitting up with the beautiful woman still in his lap. She scooted off for him to get up again, this time reaching toward his duffel bag for a pair of boxer shorts, as he had lost need of them last night.

Getting some sweatpants and a red t-shirt on, he moved to the kitchen, pulling out various ingredients for that morning's meal. As he mixed some batter for pancakes, he tended to some Canadian bacon sizzling lowly in the pan. He heard the sound of water trickling into a drain, as well as some music from the direction of the bathroom. Taking care to not burn the pancakes he had lovingly/forcibly slaved over, he stacked 3 hearty flapjacks on a plate, piling fresh cut strawberries and blueberries on the pancake mound, finishing it with some fruity syrup and whipped cream. The bacon slices he placed on a smaller plate, setting the table in preparation for the woman's arrival.

She came around the corner in a black and yellow hemmed T-shirt and some shorts that were more of a rectangle of denim wrapped around her hips, her slightly tanned and toned legs catching the man's eyes. "You'd never believe that twiggy-legs Babs would become a supermodel-class hottie."

Barbara smirked, her eyes trained on the man. "Never thought you'd cook anything more than a can of beans straight off the shelf."

The man laughed heartily. "The days before the discovery of the stove were dark and tasteless."

"Much like your humor back then,"

The man rolled his eyes. "Hey, we get it. My childhood wasn't as much a gem as it was the crap that comes off the gem when it gets cut. Any more snark from you, bookworm, and I'm revoking your right to breakfast."

Crossing her arms, she gave the man a wry smile. "Revoking MY right to breakfast cooked in MY kitchen with MY food?"

"By MY hands, Babsy-poo."

"Okay, first, no. Never again. Second, you owe me a good meal for our little rendezvous last night."

"We both wanted it."

"Yes," Barbara wrapped her arms around the man's broad shoulders. "And you promised me breakfast the next morning."

The man put his hands at Barbara's sides, just hovering over her hips. "Isn't there a story about a guy who sold his birthright for a meal? I think it ended badly."

"I didn't sell you me. I gave you me in exchange for a small favor."

"Speaking of which, that favor's getting cold."

Barbara giggled. "You remembered to wash your hands before you started right?"

The man snapped. "Darn, knew there was something I forgot."

She gaped. "You didn't-" His wide grin and chuckle told her the opposite. She shoved him. "You jackass."

"Gotcha good, Babsy." He pulled out the chair in front of a lavish pile of pancakes and fruit. The Canadian bacon still steamed up from her plate.

As she sat, she felt a small heat coming off of the plates. _Warmed. Good foresight_.

The man seated himself, awaiting her beginning the meal. "Go on, it ain't getting any warmer."

She cut a small slice out of the pancakes, stabbed at some fruit and the stack of warm flapjack wedges, having the pile disappear behind her lips. As she chewed, her eyes widened. She looked down and back at the man. She swallowed, and shook her head. "It's impossible. You couldn't possibly make something this good!"

Enamel colored teeth became visible from the man's slight embarrassment. "Living in the land of Her Majesty the Queen taught me the true blessing of American cuisine. There were some days I just had pancakes and whatever passed for bacon there 3 meals a day just to avoid some of the weird stuff Brits call food. Hey, call me a spoiled American."

"So, you have pancakes down to an art. I thought it was something you put in the batter."

"Well, there was Bisquick, milk, egg, vanilla extract, LYTD."

Barbara arched an eyebrow. "LYTD?"

"'Love you to death.'"

"Aww, you're so corny," She took another bite, caught in the small rapture of her perfect pancakes. "So, other than making the world's best pancake breakfast, anything else you do while in the Isles?"

"Oh, you know. Saw the sights. Visited the villages. Canoed on the Thames."

"Why?"

The man shrugged. "Just so I could say I did it."

"Fair enough." She picked up a glass of milk, her throat slightly dry. "Anything exciting?"

"There were those bombs."

Barbara almost sputtered. "Bombs?"

"Yeah, that explosion under the Westminster Bridge that was on the news. Cliff notes are bomb maker, Russian mob, blame on Arab kids, Muslim extremism, and one officer with a helluva good report for that day."

Barbara blew out a long whistle, taking some coffee and adding a spoonful or 4 of sugar to it. "Anything for attention?"

"Gimme some credit. I booked it while Westminster rattled like the San Andreas Fault. It's also why I'm here."

She knew that reason all too well. After taking a sip from her coffee, she set the mug down and put both her hands on the man's left one. "You can't do this. Not unless you want him coming after you."

The man turned aside. "Barb, we both know that…rehabilitation," He spat the word out like it was a vulgarity. "won't work on that thing."

"This isn't the way. No one but me knows you're back. You can begin a new life and I'll help you do that. I've told you this countless times. Revenge won't change what has happened."

"So what? I forget what's happened to me?" His fist clenched, drawing blood. "Forget how that clown tortured me and left me to die in that over sized C4 coffin?!"

Barbara swallowed. The mental agony he had endured was far beyond what anyone should have to experience. And yet, it wasn't a valid excuse. She took in a deep breath and turned his face to him, a stern glare fixed into his hazel eyes, a tuft of white and dark red hair slightly covering his right eye.

"Jason, if you don't let this go, you'll let him win. You'll let Joker win for what he's done."

Jason Todd stared at the woman's endless blue eyes, at Barbara Gordon's endless blue eyes. Being the police commissioner's daughter didn't factor into her not wanting him to kill the Joker. It was her love. She didn't want to see his life consumed by hatred and vengeance. She knew his reasons, He had told her, and she had agreed with him that he had every right to end Joker's life.

But she would not let him.

If only for his soul to be spared.

Jason picked up his fork and dug into his pile of untouched pancakes.

* * *

 _Thank you for taking your time to read this chapter of a new story I am undertaking. It has been on my mind for some time now (4 years as of 2015), and I couldn't get a good starting place I felt good with. So, here we have the first chapter of what will eventually become the maxi-series, Red Hood and the Titans. How we get to that point will be a matter of time, so bear with me._

 _I also wish to say this. I have planned for this story to take place within a version of the Teen Titans TV Show Earth. However, since the Teen Titans category doesn't account for the existence of Barbara Gordon or Jason Todd within that Earth, I have resorted to naming this as a Batman story for navigational purposes. As more stories are published, they shall retain the "Red Hood and the Titans" master title. But for those who wish to read a Jason Todd story, having this fall under a category where Jason Todd is visible as one of the main characters is better than naming Robin or Starfire who won't have a prominent role in this prologue._

 _I welcome comments, critiques, etc. I am always looking for ways to improve my writing, and I would hope you would extend the same kindness and courtesy to me as I would to you._

 _As for Jason Todd and Barbara Gordon being a couple, well, shock factor helps, but that isn't the only reason I chose to take this route. Stick around and see what's gonna happen in the next chapter of the prologue :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**GOTHAM CITY, NJ September 23, 2008 9:55 PM EST**

"Do you have a visual?"

"Yes, Lady Talia," spoke a man of Eastern European descent in a thick accent.

Atop the Silverstone building, a prominent needle-like structure constructed under the supervision of LexCorp's new CEO, after the prior had reached the office of presidency and subsequently almost allowed a moon sized chunk of Kryptonite's condemned past to strike the Earth's face vanished to a part of Stryker's Island where the guards mysteriously lost the key to opening his cell. The slot for the cell's food drawer occupied the place where the key for the door would have been. The "new" CEO wore a white button up shirt, close fitting black pants, and expensive black high heels with strange horned skulls for the buckles.

Pulling a strand of long brown hair that had been getting in her eyes for the past 20 minutes behind her ear, she looked at the tightly muscled bald man crouched down with high-tech binoculars. "Yuri, I need to know what he's doing."

"He wanders, Mistress. Searching for something…He has approached…a bakery. He's-What the?"

"Yes?"

"He threw brick into bakery window and he's wolfing loaves of bread. It appears…I have good enough angle to run facial recognition." He pressed a button on the side of the binoculars with a distinct shutter sound coming from them.

"Let me see." Yuri handed Talia the binoculars. "…Plug your search results into Mephistonet. We both know the Detective has scrubbed data about his 'family' from traditional databases."

Yuri clicked a button on a wrist computer. "Searching now, Mistress."

Talia stared intently at the boy. His suit was tattered and ruined by mud, rain, and most likely broken wood, but other than that, he appeared to be in perfect health. He ravenously consumed loaves of bread, undoubtedly to make up for calories lost.

"Mistress, I've confirmed that the boy is indeed Jason Todd, the ward of Bruce Wayne the-"

"Billionaire," she sharply cut him off. Even in her own building, she wasn't secure in who would be listening. Such oversights had happened before. "Watch your tongue, Yuri. Or you shall soon watch it in a jar."

Yuri gulped and prostrated himself. "Forgive me, Mistress. I was only being speci-"

"I KNOW who Bruce Wayne is," interrupted Talia. "More than anyone. The only question is how does he not know his ward lives?"

"Perhaps, he grieves?" asked Yuri tentatively.

 _The only way my beloved grieves is by giving criminal scum 4 more fractured bones than usual_ , mused Talia. _He is not the type of man to mope about his home drinking himself into deeper grief_.

Without his Mistress' answer, Yuri looked down towards Gotham Bay. Talia watched as Jason turned a corner to some thugs. One thug appeared to be yelling at him. Talia pulled out a small Bluetooth headset and put it in her ear, clicking it on. Through the binoculars, the earpiece translated the lip movements into speech.

" _You lost little boy? What, dumped by your date?_ "

" _Maybe he's some rich kid who got mugged._ "

" _Damn, then we just got some dude's leftovers._ "

" _Who cares? I need something to hit, and it don't look like anyone's gonna miss this kid._ "

" _C'mon man, let's leave him-_ "

" _Shut up, Tommy! I'm gonna enjoy thi-_ "

Few things brought a smile to Talia's lips. A successful operation of grand importance. A dinner overlooking Venice. Mind-blowing sex with the Dark Knight Detective. This situation warranted a smirk, which was more than it deserved.

The thug's punch met air. In his bewilderment, Jason propelled himself off the wall, slamming his foot into his attacker's face, smashing him against the wall. The second thug rushed at Jason with a knife. Jason twisted around, catching the knife arm inches from his chest, and brought down a tightened elbow. His opponent howled in pain as his forearm made a sickening crunch of bone.

" _What the?! P-please, don't hurt me!_ "

"Tch," Talia gave the binoculars back to Yuri. "Incredible." She pulled out the earpiece and swiftly turned away. "Bring him to me."

"Yes, Mistress," said Yuri as he radioed to his comrades watching from the rooftops. "If I may be so bold, Mistress, could you tell me why the Batman does not know that his ward is alive?"

Talia stopped in her tracks and turned to half gaze at Yuri. A long pause occurred between them, then she answered, "Because he never considered it to be a worthy venture."

* * *

 **SOFIA, BULGARIA September 24, 2008 5:03 AM EET**

"And you're certain it is him?"

"Without a doubt, father," answered Talia from the view screen. "There is no mistaking the...signature of his movements."

"How can this be?" Rā's put a hand to his chin. "I had planned to resurrect the boy as penance to the Detective and even I was skeptical at the results of immersing him in the Lazarus Pit."

"Is there anyone else who would have known of his death and willfully resurrected him with another Pit?" asked Talia.

"Not to my knowledge," answered Rā's. "This doesn't feel like someone used the Lazarus Pit to bring him back. It was something else entirely."

"So what now? I have the boy in my custody."

Rā's stroked his beard, a habit he displayed when in very deep thought. Normally, he'd just close his eyes, but this situation...it was unlike anything he had experienced in his almost 700 years of life. "Bring the boy to me in Sofia. Show me what he's capable of. Afterwards, I will decide what to do with him."

"Yes, Father," said Talia as she ended the transmission.

Rā's' green cloak flowed behind him as he walked up to his balcony office, his mind brimming with theories. What could have brought the boy back? Was it a Lazarus Pit? Though he used the Pits for centuries, he still had yet to discover all of their quirks. And if not a Lazarus Pit, what else on Earth could have brought Jason Todd back?

He entered a massive ornate office, bookshelves and filing cabinets lining the walls except for the great window with immaculate pieces of art placed all about above the small library as well as a portrait of the Head of the Demon himself hung above a cherry wood desk. Staring through the window to the starry skies above, Rā's narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps…not on Earth." He pulled out a remote and clicked one of the buttons.

A large, muscular, bald man of Eastern descent in black pants and a red-rimmed green vest barely covering his pectorals entered and bowed before the Head of the Demon. "Yes, my master?"

"Ubu, contact Cain," said Rā's as he walked to his desk. "I have an assignment for him."

Ubu pounded his fist over his heart. "It shall be done, my master."

Rā's idly sorted through some papers on his desk until he found one of interest. "Afterwards, go to Gotham and take over the operation in watching the Dark Knight Detective. I need to know specifics in how he is handling his ward's death. Relationships with friends, family, the commissioner, anything." Rā's looked back up at Ubu. "You are free to do whatever you please if you have free time, but that data is paramount."

"I understand, my master," Ubu did a quick bow and left the room.

As Rā's continued looking through his files, he thought to himself, _the new one better learn that there rarely is any free time in studying the Detective._

* * *

 **NANDA PARBAT September 24, 2008 7:54 AM NPT**

Always the icy chill of the mountains awoke her. No matter the fires she stoked or the warmth of the person beside her, she felt even the slightest mountain breeze, she awoke from her slumber. She hated the mountain air. It felt like an ice demon caressed her cheek while holding a frosted blade at her neck.

But it was necessary for her to endure this to accomplish what she wanted.

She looked at the strewn about clothing, a corset there, pants here, a corset there...or was that not hers?

"Morning, my little ninja."

A pair of perfect breasts pressed onto her back as strong lithe hands slid around her waist. "Did you sleep well?"

The woman awoken by the chilly air kept staring out to the frozen mountains. "I did, then the wind sensed my slumber and decided to stop it." Behind her, she could sense her partner was stifling her giggles.

"Maybe the wind was pushing you towards me," the woman behind said playfully.

"And maybe we should get ready for today's training, Nyssa," retorted the chilly woman.

The woman known as Nyssa pouted. "I don't believe you ever get awoken by the wind. You're way too cold for that, Sandra."

"Even in private, I told you not to call me that. That is no longer my name." The woman turned to face Nyssa. "I am Lady Shiva. You may detach the title, but never should you call me by my given name."

Nyssa smiled. "Bossy, aren't we?"

"I'd prefer my reputation stay intact, Nyssa," Shiva moved to get her black leather pants crumpled in the corner. "It would do us less good if Lady Shiva could be casually referred to as 'Sandra'."

"Well, Lady Shiva," Nyssa moved behind Shiva, helping her pull up her tight leather pants and splaying her hands over the ninja's tight stomach. "I wonder about being concerned about a reputation after having such an intimate time with the daughter of the Demon."

Mentally, Shiva sighed. Outwardly, she allowed herself a small smirk, "I've always liked flirting with danger."

Nyssa planted a small kiss on Shiva's neck. "Danger likes it very much."

Shiva gently pulled Nyssa's hands off of her. "We have wasted too much time," promptly grabbing her corset and cinching it on. "We must begin this morning's training, or the others will get complacent."

Nyssa smirked, dressing herself as well. "Always work with you. Can't you ever relax?"

Shiva swung around, putting her jacket on in one swift move. "Relaxation is for the common folk. For people like us, it is a luxury that should rarely be exercised."

Rolling her eyes, Nyssa slipped into her cat suit, clipping various knife pouches onto her legs and finally her belt. A face mask and trench coat completed the look, as it was her choice of clothing to address her followers. A katana hung low from her side, more of a symbol of authority than use as a weapon.

Shiva had her own katana on her back held in place by two fasteners instead of a sash reducing the risk of getting caught on anything. Not that she would have to worry about that due to her skills, but she felt that a conservative design would be in her best interest.

The two warrior women exited their room, striding through the hallway to the main meeting area. As they walked, panting could be heard coming towards them. Shiva turned to see a bloodied warrior of their faction tripping on an uneven stone.

"What is the meaning of this?" queried Shiva.

"Mistress," the ninja coughed. "We…are under attack."

Shiva knelt down and yanked the man up to eye level. "By who?"

"C…C…Ca…Cain," the ninja struggled to say before life left him.

"Cain?" asked Nyssa. "Did he mean David Cain?"

Shiva wrinkled her nose, dropping the dead shinobi. "For his sake, it better not be him." Readying herself, Shiva dashed off at a near inhuman speed, running off corridor walls when she needed to turn. The cries of fallen warriors and gunshots reached her ears as she approached the training yard. Without stopping to observe the field, she leapt over the railing, landing square in the yard.

Bodies of fallen ninja lay everywhere with the rest engaging the silver haired man in the center. He wore a skintight navy suit with a bandolier and pouches on his right arm and hips. His guns flared every second as bullets flew through the air like hail. After dispatching 5 more ninja, he took notice to Shiva's presence. He grinned toothily and began firing in her direction.

Shiva darted back and forth, gauging the angles of the guns to determine her moves. She whirled around, avoiding more bullets until…

* * *

Nyssa raced behind Shiva, almost unable to keep up with her beloved ninja. Nyssa had trained longer than Shiva, but her own skills couldn't match up to the aptitude displayed by the well-known assassin. She made it to the training grounds just in time to see Shiva's katana pressed against Cain's neck with him holding a gun to Shiva's head.

"Long time no see, Shiva," Cain said haughtily.

"Not long enough if you ask me, dog," spat Shiva.

"Hey, if I'm a dog, does that make you a bi-" Cain was cut off by the edge of Shiva's katana pressing further into his throat.

"It makes me unhappy to see you," said Shiva through gritted teeth. "By what reason can you conjure to convince me why you're here?"

Cain chuckled. "Nothing hostile, I can assure you."

"I'm convinced," said Nyssa sarcastically as she somersaulted through the air, deftly landing on the bloodied stones below. "Do you always kill your host's employees when you barge into their house?"

"They didn't offer me any tea," snidely remarked Cain. The katana pressed closer to his esophagus. "Well, aside from testing your forces, I am here with a message from Rā's al Ghul."

Nyssa raised an eyebrow and nodded towards Shiva. The ninja glared at Cain, and yanked her blade back, cutting close to the artery in Cain's neck.

Cain pulled a patch from one of his pouches and continued, "The Demon's Head has requested your presence in his palace in Sofia, Bulgaria. He has something he wishes to discuss with you."

"So that is what the Master has you do now?" wryly asked Shiva. "Be his errand boy?"

"Actually, he did say for me to test out your forces," retorted Cain. "They could use some work."

Nyssa gazed over the battlefield. Nearly 30 ninja had fallen to Cain's weapons. She chuckled. "It is so hard to get good help these days." She turned to Cain. "Tell Father I will depart immediately."

"Very well, Lady Nyssa," said Cain with a mock bow. "You can bring the bitch ninja too."

Shiva growled. "Why the Master keeps a dog like you around is beyond me."

"I could say the same," said Cain, laughing as he left the grounds.

Shiva readied a stance to charge at Cain. "I swear, I'd rather-"

Nyssa raised an arm to block Shiva. "Not now, my love. We will have our chance. Then," she looked back at Cain who kicked aside a corpse, "We shall end him and my father's rule."

* * *

 **SOFIA, BULGARIA September 26, 2008 7:54 EET**

From his study, Rā's watched the lights flicker on in the city of Sofia. Mankind's accomplishments; Harnessing electricity, creating the internal combustion engine, Starbucks. Each dart of light was another reminder of the corrupt parasites scuttling about on the Earth's face. How he wish he could at last rid the world of not only those here in the Eastern Bloc, but in Asia, Africa, Australia, and the Americas. Rā's smirked. All his targets became an example of alliteration. And he had one more word beginning with 'A' to describe the magnitude of the cleansing.

Absolute.

Mankind's salvation rested upon his weary shoulders. Only he, who had seen the world from the dominance of the Ottomans to the decadence of the Europeans, to the festering wound known as the United States of America, rife with graft-filled cities, could at last purify the world of the scum of humanity. The major cities of America would be first: Metropolis, New York City, Central City, Los Angeles, Starling City.

And Gotham City, the residence of the only man on Earth to have gained Rā's respect.

Many more cities would need to be purged, even at the cost of Rā's adversary, and his daughter's beloved. Rā's closed his eyes and strode to his desk.

A knock on the door caught his attention. "I had asked not to be disturbed."

"It is I, father," responded a confident, almost arrogant, feminine voice.

Rā's furrowed his brow. _Nyssa_. His 3 centuries old daughter as a result of a rendezvous with a Russian woman who enticed a much younger and less wise Rā's al Ghul had become of a power to keep both eyes on. Anyone who could have enticed Lady Shiva to leave (bar her 'difficulties' with the infamous David Cain) deserved nothing more than Rā's full attention when addressing her.

"Enter," he said.

As the door opened, Rā's took a firm look at his second daughter. Her tanned face was fair with high cheekbones, her green eyes glowing with a lust for power and painted burgundy lips that would have enticed most men to yearn for this exotic maiden. Her black hair flowed down her shoulders like fine silk. Her attire was a green Chinese dress with a fierce golden dragon snaking up from the bottom hem, wrapping around Nyssa and terminating at the end of a long sleeve. Everywhere her arm moved, it seemed as though the dragon's eyes kept watching Rā's.

Nyssa looked to a chair before Rā's desk, to which he waved at it. She mock curtsied and sat down, crossing her legs. "So, dad."

It took all his willpower to stop himself from cringing.

"Is it tradition to send one of your goons to massacre most of your daughter's playthings? Or are we trying a new form of parenting?"

"Cain has been reprimanded for his actions," responded Rā's. "He did this act to get to Lady Shiva, not you, Nyssa."

Nyssa lifted a finger to her chin and pursed her lips. "I want to believe that. I really do. But, there is the fact that you could have sent Ubu or someone else to summon me to your," Nyssa looked around, scrunching her nose at the architecture and decoration of the room, "palace. So here's my theory." The woman leaned forward, "You wanted to send a message to me."

"The message was to come here," answered Rā's, maintaining his poker face. Ironic, as he found the game to be for barbarians.

"No, the message was 'I want to remind you who is in charge, so minus 30 soldiers, naughty Nyssa'," trailed Nyssa. "Let's just consider something here. If we keep up this game of playful pecking, eventually, pecking turns to plucking and someone will get their feathers torn out leaving them flapping helplessly on the ground." Nyssa leaned forward, staring her father in the eyes. "You'll just have to admit that your little Nyssa isn't a baby bird waiting to be fed regurgitated philosophy. I have my life, you have yours. So please, for both our sakes." Rā's swore her eyes luminesced. "Don't do that again."

Rā's tapped his fingers together, continuing to glare at Nyssa. She had always been the upstart child. Always challenging him. Rā's thanked the spirits that Nyssa wasn't born truly male, otherwise she would try to take over the League of Shadows, remaking it into her image. The possibility of that day sent chills down the ancient man's spine. Few things had such an effect.

After a few minutes of silence, Rā's replied, "Then, daughter, I will endeavor to send more, restrained representatives if I am to request your presence again. One would think I could just call you on the telephone."

Nyssa smiled, "That would be telling. That 60s looking computer in your basement isn't just an oversized doorstop. I know you have every program from Adobe to the LexCorp tracking software, Leviathan."

"Your point is flawed," said Rā's. "I already knew you were in Nanda Parbat."

"Where else do ninja go to train? A hidden village?" Nyssa relaxed, sitting sideways in the lavishly designed chair. "You don't know the place where I truly rest my head."

Rā's frowned deeper. His daughter's lackadaisical nature had never been something he got accustomed to. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Now that we have the pleasantries out of the way, I have something that requires your attention."

Nyssa perked up, swinging around to sit in the chair normally.

"4 years ago, an organization in Gotham called Carcharias began fouling up the waters of Gotham's underworld. Their leader, Warren White, also known as the Great White Shark, heads this corporation."

Rā's slid a dossier across to Nyssa. He continued as she studied the file, "Carcharias caters to, shall we say, rogues of lesser renown. Many criminals who have a difficult time getting started turn to Carcharias for financial support as well as martial and technological support."

"Martial?" inquired Nyssa. "Like military?"

"In a sense, yes," answered Rā's. "Carcharias has spread so much influence over Gotham that it may as well be a privatized army. Some criminals don't even know they're working for Mr. White."

At that, Nyssa had to raise her eyebrows. "It has that much influence?"

Rā's nodded. "It has that much of a reach. More elite members of Carcharias that can keep their mouths shut control gangs in certain territories of Gotham City. Every so often, they fight it out to either weed out elements that become suspicious or simply to keep up appearances to throw off the authorities and the Detective."

"Not that I doubt your resourcefulness," began Nyssa. "But how-"

"Does the Detective not know what I know?" finished Rā's. "Unlike me, he does not play chess in the same way I do?"

"You mean ending with Pyrrhic victories?" said Nyssa snidely.

Rā's gritted his teeth and slammed his hand on the table causing Nyssa to back up slightly in her chair. "I have had enough of your caustic remarks, Nyssa! This is an important assignment that will benefit us both, especially since this is an opportunity to recruit new members to your fledgling organization! Either take this seriously, or be on your way!"

Nyssa nodded, carefully picking up the documents. "So, Carcharias. Where do I…start, exactly?"

"Begin with him," said Rā's as he pointed to a picture of a fish-lipped balding man.

"Ricky 'Loose Lips' LeBlanc?" asked Nyssa.

"Mr. LeBlanc has been a member of Carcharias since its inception. However, according to my sources, he is beginning to outlive his usefulness. This would be an opportune time for you to establish yourself as a more capable employee for this organization."

Nyssa tapped the side of her head. "I am wondering something. Why don't I just tell Shiva to join Carcharias? She's more skilled than I."

"On that, we are in agreement," said Rā's. "However, your point is also my point. Since she is so skilled, her abilities have made their way into the criminal underworld. You, however, are as real to them as the thought of the sun rising in the west." Nyssa opened her mouth to object, but Rā's continued. "You, I, and Talia are all ghosts in the machine. People have heard of the League of Shadows, but they do not know who truly runs it due to those we have set in place as figureheads. Be it Werner Zytle, the Count Vertigo, or Henri Ducard, the emissary to Rā's al Ghul, who has as many faces as there are stars in the sky."

Nyssa smiled. Rā's could be called many things. Paranoid was the incorrect term. Prepared and insightful best described his careful nature. The paranoid shuffle about expecting attacks. Rā's knew attacks would come and set up the proper defenses to counter each one.

Except for the Batman, or the Detective as her father was fond of calling him.

"So once I find this fish lipped man, do I kill him?"

"Discredit him, outdo him, anything that you see fit. All you need to do is enter Carcharias and slowly bring them down. Whatever you decide to do while in it is your prerogative."

Studying the paper more, she looked down to another section titled 'GEARHEAD'.

Rā's' eyes sparked with precognition. "That is not of any concern."

Nyssa gave her father a sardonic look as she picked up the file. "The fact that you are trying to hide who he is means he is of great concern."

Rā's stood and walked around to where his daughter reclined. "Let's just say I have a stake in his research." Rā's clutched the Gearhead file Nyssa was probing. "He has something that can further my goals for world peace, and I'd rather it be known to few."

The daughter of the Demon stared down the Head of the Demon. After a few seconds, she let her grasp of the file loose, allowing Rā's to put it away in a safe.

"You may leave. I have nothing more to say to you," said Rā's without turning around.

Nyssa furrowed her brow at Rā's. He always did this; treating her like every one of his followers. She was expendable, a pawn. Well, maybe more of a rook. Imparting a small bow to her father who paid no mind to her, she curtly spun and made her way to the door.

"One more thing of which I know you are aware," began Rā's.

"I don't need to be coddled, Dad," spat Nyssa. "I'll take my mother's surname. I doubt your precious Detective will find it out until it is too late." She strode out the door, slamming it as she left.

Rā's looked back at where his daughter exited, then pulled out a small radio. "Come in."

A door to the right of the desk opened, and Talia al Ghul strolled through, her walk nothing short of perfect in her high heels. "Nyssa has always had quite the temper, even as a child."

"She must get that from her mother," said Rā's idly as he read through another file.

Talia looked at the crack in the desk Rā's fist had left. "Right."

Rā's turned to Talia. "How is the boy?"

"Healthy, regularly exercising."

"Cognizant?"

Talia stared out to the city lights. "No."

Rā's sighed, truly feeling the accumulated years. "It has been 3 days. But that is too soon to tell. I must know how he came back." Rā's picked up another document. "How are his fighting skills?"

"More reactive than active. He knows how to defend himself, but he only does something when I pit anyone against him. However…"

Rā's gazed at Talia. "What?"

"Yesterday, I tried to spar against him, just to see what would happen. But…he didn't do anything."

"You are of the fairer sex, my daughter. The Detective probably didn't have much time to teach him that women can be just as dangerous as men."

Talia raised an eyebrow. Rā's al Ghul was never dismissive, let alone doubtful of her Beloved's unparalleled training methods. "That had nothing to do with it."

Rā's turned to his daughter. Knowing she had his full attention, she continued. "I sent a few of my elite guard against him, including ones who were very beautiful, and Jason took all of them down. So why not me?"

The Head of the Demon pulled at his beard, looking down to the bright city. "This implies he has some awareness. Is there anything else?"

"Not much, except for an unusual habit."

"Enlighten me."

"He's…rather fond of bread."

"Bread? Like sandwiches?"

"No, just bread. In any form."

Rā's continued pulling at his beard, beginning to pace back and forth. "One reason is simple. Carbohydrates are the fuel by which the brain functions. Perhaps his instincts are telling him to take actions that would be most prudent."

"Such as?"

"He doesn't attack you, his benefactor, because you provide him with clothing, food, and shelter. He eats only bread because his brain desperately wants to function properly."

 _By the end of this, your shoes will need to be replaced from so much pacing_ , thought Talia. "Interesting conjectures. Are you certain there's any truth to them?"

"Daughter, at this point, all I have are theories. And it has been a good time since meeting the Detective that I have had an interesting mystery to unravel." Rā's pulled out some files and sat back at his desk. "Keep me informed of the boy's progress."

"Understood, Father." Talia bowed and promptly exited the room.

* * *

 **SOFIA, BULGARIA December 13, 2008 5:46 PM EET**

Not only did their palace in Sofia have a great view of the city. In the back of the house, splendid views of the Vitosha Mountain poured through the windows. The snowcapped mountain formation was a massif, a phenomenon where peaks jutted upwards from crustal movement beneath the Earth's surface. Such a marvel could only form through the ravages of time. Her father once recounted to her that the Vitosha Mountain was smaller when he was younger, and more beautiful due to the lack of cable cars and tourists.

Such a place on the property did Talia find Jason, sitting and staring at the mountains. In the months since she had found him wandering the streets of Gotham, she had taken care of the boy, seeing personally to his eating and training needs, leaving his hygiene to a few of her servants. Every day after Jason trained, she told her guards to escort him outdoors for an hour, believing that the fresh air would do him some good. A guard once commented how cliché that sounded and was demoted to scrubbing biochemical moss created by the Lazarus Pit's proximity to the stones in the lower chambers.

For the last few months, Talia felt that little progress had been made with Jason. After 2 months of no new data beyond the exorbitant ingestion of bread and not hitting Talia, Rā's had abandoned his project of finding out what caused the boy's resurrection. He cared no longer to see Jason, instead sulking in his office or attending to other matters. Rā's had told her that Jason would be sent away from him. He'd be taken care of in honor of his mentor and of Talia, but Rā's considered the boy a lost cause.

Talia grimaced at the sharp truth her father stabbed her with. He rightly accused her of doing this so that Batman would truly love and appreciate her. Rā's told her that the only thing that the Detective would do is ask her why she kept Jason secret for all this time. She tried to shut the thought out of her mind, but she knew it was the only resulting situation. Tomorrow, Jason would be taken away to a safe house in France.

She walked out to the yard, frowning at the sight before her. The boy's head and shoulders were covered with some light snowfall. She walked over and brushed the icy flakes off of him, snapping to her servants. When they had brought over a large umbrella to deter the snowfall Talia sat in the slush next to the boy, thanking the spirits she wore thermals today. She pulled her knees to her chest and stared out to the mountain with him.

Talia and Jason sat in silence for minute which passed like hours.

"He misses you. Honestly, I can tell."

Jason did not move.

"Since he's lost you, he's changed. He's become…unforgiving. I know that most probably don't see that quality in him." She looked over, trying to see any glint of recognition in Jason's eyes. All she saw were vacant orbs. "But you know." Talia closed her eyes. "I know it too."

Jason didn't stir.

Placing her hand on the catatonic boy's shoulder, she continued. "I think you, and Dick Grayson before you, gave him light. Gave him hope."

Jason said nothing.

Talia retracted her hand, burying her chin into her knees. "He feels responsible for you. Your loss is his failure." She looked as deeply into the boy's eyes as she could without facing him. "He _misses_ you."

Still Jason said nothing. Talia closed her eyes, biting her lower lip in frustration. Shaking her head she said, "Jason."

A sniffle drowned out all other sounds.

Talia's eyes widened. She looked at Jason again. A tear snaked down the boy's cheek, and his lips quivered in sadness. His hands clenched his knees till his knuckles turned white.

Talia gaped at the boy. She laid a hand on his shoulder and said, "Jason?"

Jason turned to her, swallowing a lump in his throat and wheezed. "Tal…i…a?"

* * *

 _And there you have it! Enter Talia. Next chapter, spoilers, will be a Joker chapter! Hooray! Let's celebrate with whoopee cushions and crowbars!_

 _Anyway, onto other matters. I'm certain that you've noticed that this chapter is much longer than the last one. It's a challenge to myself to try and write longer chapters as time goes on within the span of a week (already broken, but I was working on this into the wee hours of the night). At this point, my goal is a 10,000+ word chapter of relevant content within a week (As if I'd intentionally write 10,000 words of crap, but the emphasis remains)._

 _So, aside from my personal goals, I do hope you've enjoyed reading. I welcome comments and critiques._

 _Stay tuned for the next chapter starring Joe Kerr as The Joker!_


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